


Brown Eyes, You're Mine

by Joanne_Lupin



Series: Trich!Connor AU [3]
Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Bottom Kevin, Introspective Porn, It is now, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Porn with Feelings, Public Display of Affection, Top Connor, but not like bad???, i fucking hate tagging things let's keep going shall we, in this case anyways like this is not new for them but it's unusual, is that a thing?, kind of, like just talking about them and how they play a role in Con's sex life, or after it rather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:39:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_Lupin/pseuds/Joanne_Lupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <br/>
  <em>I think you're somebody important</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I think I might have maybe met my match</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I know I haven't been too honest</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But you have shown me you can handle that</em>
</p>
<p>In that last fic, I mentioned sex. Here's the sex, with a side order of unexpected feelings.</p>
<p>Or: Connor struggles with feeling like he doesn't deserve happiness because he thinks he takes more than he gives. But he doesn't want to let that ruin the best night of his life, so this time, he decides to fucking take.</p>
<p>Set in the Trich!Connor-verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brown Eyes, You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

> True to form, this fic was inspired by a song: "Baby Fox" by Saturday, Monday ft. Hayley Kiyoko.
> 
> I wouldn't say this fic is incredibly angsty, but I talk about Connor's issues in some detail so tread with caution, I guess.
> 
> Thanks to emotional-heathen for giving me advice about how to go about this fic, which i then ignored.

After all the hugs and congratulations, the boat ride is pretty much over. Connor can hardly keep his hands off Kevin— his _fiancé_ — as they exit the boat and walk up the pier.

"I think Arnold and I will stay with Parvati tonight," Naba says, grinning knowingly.

Arnold nods, sharing Naba's grin. "Think of it as... an engagement gift."

Connor blushes, but he's grateful. He wants as much time alone with Kevin as possible, and it'll be nice to not have to worry about their roommates.

"Thanks, guys. You don't have to..." Everyone in their party can tell Kevin is bluffing.

"It is fine. I remember how I felt when Arnold proposed to me." Naba beams, glancing at her husband. "I know you will want to be with only each other."

"You're the best," Connor says sincerely, kissing Naba on the cheek and still not letting go of Kevin's hand.

"I know I am. You two enjoy yourselves!" Naba mimics Connor's gesture. Kevin wraps her in a one-armed hug. Arnold hugs the both of them at once. They head their separate ways.

The ride home is torturous. After all they'd spent that day, Connor knows that they can't afford to get a cab home. But since his first week in Chicago, Connor had vowed to never be part of an overly-touchy couple on public transit, and he's now finding it very hard to keep that vow.

It's the same old Kevin sitting next to him, same old warm, strong arm wrapped around his waist. But he's also different. He's his _fiancé_. He's borne witness to some of the hardest things Connor's ever had to do, watched him stumble and struggle and break, and after all of that, he still wants to be with Connor for the rest of their lives.

This makes Connor incredibly happy, which is usually terrifying; every time Connor finds something that makes him happy, he can't help but think— so hard until he believes— that it will be taken from him. And as Connor feels Kevin's arm around him and senses anxiety creeping from his stomach, he makes the decision to push that feeling down— not to turn it off, but to banish it back to the depths of Hell, where it belongs.

So maybe that's why he keeps a possessive hand on Kevin's shoulder all the way home, and why he can't help but sneak sweet, hot kisses even though they still have ten more stops to go. They whisper “I love you” to each other even more often. 

Connor loves the way Kevin is looking at him; it reminds him of the day he convinced them all to stay in Uganda. He thinks he understands what Kevin said to him when he proposed. He forgets sometimes that Kevin has been through a _lot_ in the last few years. For all the times Kevin has cared for him and cried for him, there have been times when Connor has tended to him after a rough course of PT, or held him during a terrible thunderstorm, or talked him down when his panic about the future boiled over into a full-blown attack.

Connor forgets these things, because of _course_ he would do all that and more for Kevin; he loves him too much _not_ to do them.

He worries sometimes that Kevin doesn’t know how much he loves him. That’s what he was talking about yesterday, with Dr. Mitchell. In his darker moments, Connor thinks of himself as a sponge, taking and never giving. 

“If you’re that worried, maybe you can, for example, make an effort to verbally tell Kevin that you love him once a day,” Dr. Mitchell had said, handing him a tissue.

“But I already do that.”

Dr. Mitchell had smiled. “All things considered, sounds like you have a perfectly healthy relationship, Connor. But if you’re still concerned, maybe you could articulate your feelings to Kevin. Let him know that you’re grateful for him. Tell him how much he means to you.”

And yeah, Dr. Mitchell hadn’t outright told him to propose, but when Connor had thought about it, what he’d really wanted to say is, “You mean the world to me, and I can’t imagine my life without you, so if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you forever.”

“I think we should get married” is a much more concise way to put it.

He’d thought the best answer he could have gotten was “yes,” but the answer he’d gotten turned out to be even better. Because Kevin had been thinking the same thing for _months_. If there was anything that could make Connor feel like Kevin really _does_ want him, it’s that.

Connor is having a hard time articulating these thoughts to himself at the moment. His hands are itching in an entirely different way than what he’s been feeling less and less since Kevin had dropped him off at Dr. Mitchell’s that first day. Because there’s one way he _knows_ he can show his appreciation, a way that gives him irrefutable proof that his message is getting through, and that’s by making Kevin fall completely apart under his touch.

Connor thinks he might have created a monster the first time he’d made Kevin come. The poor thing had never even touched himself before the split, back when he was Mr. Mormon McMormonson. Sexual desire was something Kevin had pushed so far down that, even after the split, he’d had a hard time allowing himself to feel it. 

They’d had to go slow, at first. It took some time for Kevin to get over the hang-ups that had been bred into him. But they’d gotten there, eventually. (And then Kevin had wanted to get there again every night that week, often multiple times.)

Connor doesn’t ever want to forget the way Kevin looked that first time, the way his wide, brown eyes had rolled back, his back arching, letting out a small, surprised gasp that sounded a lot like Connor’s name. It’s one of the most beautiful things Connor has ever seen, and he hopes he’s made sure Kevin knows that.

Right now, Connor’s head is consumed with thoughts of making Kevin look like that again. It seems Kevin is on a similar train of thought from the way he catches Connor’s eye, biting his lip. Then he leans close, his breath tickling Connor’s ear.

“I want you so bad, Con,” he whispers. He drags his fingers up Connor’s side, sending a shiver through him. Their heads shift, allowing Connor’s lips access to Kevin’s ear.

“You have me.” His teeth graze Kevin’s earlobe before he turns to glance at the sign announcing the next stop. _One more after this. Just one more._

Kevin is getting red in the face. He bites his lip again. The train makes its next stop.

“We’re almost there,” Connor whispers. “I can’t wait to get you alone, love.”

Kevin squirms. Connor grins. He stands, offering his hand to Kevin, and pulls him close to the doors so that, when they open a few moments later, he and his fiancé can book it. They keep running the short few blocks from the station to their building, both of them giggling like teenagers, their hands interlocked. Their 3-story walkup, usually a minor pain in the ass (especially on days when Kevin’s leg decides to remind him of what happened in Uganda), becomes a breeze. Kevin fumbles with the keys in his excitement, but then they’re inside, and the door slams shut behind Connor’s back as Kevin pushes him against it, kissing him hungrily.

Connor moans quietly. He pulls off Kevin’s tie and attacks his shirt, fumbling with the buttons in his haste. Kevin runs his hands up Connor’s body, sliding them under his suspenders and shoving them off his shoulders, a move that never fails to make Connor melt a little. He has to stop his efforts for just a second to entirely free his arms, but then he’s back at Kevin’s shirt again, tugging it away so he can feel Kevin’s exposed skin. 

Connor loves how sensitive Kevin is to his touch. The simple ghosting of Connor’s fingertips over Kevin’s chest is enough to make him shiver, and firmer, fuller touches earn Connor a small, high whine. Not that Connor’s much different; every point of skin-to-skin contact between the two of them feels like an electrical current. 

As much as Connor enjoys being pinned against the door, he thinks he’d prefer to continue their activities in the bedroom. He grabs Kevin’s hand and twirls under his arm. Kevin laughs.

“I guess if you want to keep me pinned, you’ll have to tie me up next time,” Connor says, pulling Kevin towards their room. 

“ _Connor_ ,” Kevin gasps. Connor smirks.

When they reach the bedroom, Connor tries out the same trick Kevin had pulled on him moments ago. He doesn’t often feel like he can do things like this, like push his partner against the wall and kiss him roughly. But tonight he’s thinking about how much of his happiness has been taken from him, and how determined he is to keep this.

So when he breaks the kiss and looks into Kevin’s shocked, lust-filled eyes, Connor pulls him in a little closer, his nails digging into Kevin’s skin, and tells the universe:

“Kevin Price is _mine._ ”

“What’s gotten into you, Connor?” Kevin asks breathlessly.

Connor doesn’t want to start _that_ conversation right now, because he thinks it might result in less sex and more crying on Kevin’s shoulder, and that’s definitely not what Connor wants to be doing right now. So instead, he hooks his fingers around Kevin’s belt and pulls him away from the door, towards the bed.

“Whatever it is, do you like it?” he asks

“Oh, yes.” 

Connor pushes Kevin down onto the bed first so he can straddle him and kiss all over his jawline. Kevin whines, his hips searching for friction against Connor’s. Connor pulls away, keeping a firm, restraining hand on Kevin’s chest. 

“Hold on, love. Too many layers.”

Kevin nods, reaching out to undo Connor’s pants. 

“No, you stay there. I’ve got it.” Kevin whines again, but he stays put as Connor rises off him so he can undress completely. Then Connor returns, towering over Kevin as he unbuckles his belt and pulls off his pants and his underwear. He stands there for a moment, admiring Kevin’s hard, blushing cock.

“Connor, please. Please touch me,” Kevin begs, squirming under his gaze. 

Connor smirks. “This is a good look on you, darling,” he purrs, tracing a finger down Kevin’s abdomen, removing his hand just as his wrist brushes the tip of Kevin’s dick. “I think I like it when you beg.”

“Fuck,” Kevin breathes, writhing on the sheets. “Connor, I need you so bad, I need you to touch me, please…”

Connor returns to his former position, grinding down deliberately onto Kevin. They both moan at the contact. They exchange messy, mouthy kisses as they move against each other. 

“I want to fuck you,” Connor says between kisses.

“Fuck. Yes. I need your cock, Connor. I need you inside me.”

“God, I really love it when you beg.” Connor pulls away to get the lube from a bedside drawer. 

“I love it when you take charge like this,” Kevin admits. 

“Maybe I should do it more often, then,” Connor replies. Kevin nods eagerly. Connor grins. “Turn over.”

Kevin immediately complies. Connor strokes Kevin’s spine gently. He opens the bottle and pours lube over his finger, and more on Kevin’s hole. Kevin squirms under Connor’s hand as Connor circles his hole with a finger. 

“Connor, please,” Kevin whines. 

Connor enters him slowly, carefully. Kevin whimpers, pushing back against him.

“You’re certainly eager,” Connor says.

“Of course I am, I’m about to have your cock in me.”

Connor chuckles. “Fair enough, I guess.” He pushes his finger in and out, his pace teasingly slow. He drizzles more lube over the area before adding another finger. He stretches Kevin carefully, despite Kevin’s pleas for more. His third finger elicits a desperate, needy whine.

“I’m _ready,_ Connor,” Kevin insists. “I want your cock.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Connor says, spreading his fingers out inside Kevin.

“ _Connor!_ ” Kevin cries impatiently. 

“You don’t care, do you?” Connor murmurs, partly to himself. “You just want me to fuck you into the mattress, even if it hurts.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Kevin gasps. “Yes, Connor, fuck me into the mattress. I need it so bad, Connor, please…”

Connor stifles a moan. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He removes his fingers, wiping them off with a tissue. He spreads lube over his cock and groans a little at the sensation, reminding the both of them that he needs this just as much as Kevin does. Connor frowns.

“I want to see you,” he says. “Turn over.” Kevin does as he’s told, and Connor smiles. “Much better. Here.” He pulls Kevin’s legs around his waist, supporting his bad one— the right one— with his left arm. Kevin arranges some pillows under his back, making himself comfortable. Using his free hand, Connor lines up his cock with Kevin’s entrance. “Ready?”

“Yes, Connor, please— _Fuck!_ ”

Connor enters Kevin slowly, and he’s glad he changed their position because now he can see how Kevin’s mouth falls open and his eyes go wide. His fingers dig into Kevin’s thigh possessively, protectively when he’s completely inside, enjoying the sight and sensations of Kevin squirming wantonly under him— _because_ of him. He feels the cool metal on his left ring finger.

“Connor, please move,” Kevin whimpers.

Connor draws himself out slowly and slams back inside deliberately, savoring the moan he gets in response. He picks up a quick, rough rhythm, one Kevin matches with rolls of his hips and more of those beautiful, needy moans. He succumbs to the intensity of Kevin’s warm, tight heat around him. He makes sure Kevin knows, with words of praise in between long, shaky keens, just how good he feels. Connor wraps his free hand around Kevin’s cock, and his noises increase in pitch. 

And Connor takes it all in, enjoying it, saving it, taking the happiness that’s his and refusing to pay penance for it. He watches Kevin’s brown eyes watching him, getting even wider as his moans get louder, and Connor rams into him, sending them both hurdling towards the edge.

“You’re _mine_ ,” Connor tells him. 

“I’m yours,” Kevin agrees, chanting it he loses himself. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.” And he comes, his back arching, his eyes slamming shut. Connor feels Kevin spasm around his cock as he keeps railing into him, and his release follows quickly. 

Through his haze, Connor has the presence of mind to pull out and maneuver himself from between Kevin’s legs so they can rest next to each other. 

“Wow,” Kevin murmurs hazily. He’s almost out, but not quite, which is how he normally gets after more intense orgasms. Connor thinks it’s kind of adorable, and also kind of sexy. 

He sits up and grabs some tissues to clean off his hand and Kevin’s stomach. Then he lies back down, snaking an arm around Kevin. Kevin mumbles something unintelligible, smiling faintly.

While he waits for Kevin to fully come to, Connor holds up his hand and watches his ring glisten in the moonlight.

“It’s not too much?” is the first coherent thing Kevin says. He rests his head on Connor’s chest.

“Of course not. Who do you think you’re marrying?” Connor grins widely. Kevin grins, too.

“We’re getting married.”

“We are.”

“I can’t believe it.”

Connor kisses Kevin’s forehead. “Believe it, mister. Soon, you’ll be stuck with me.”

“Good.” Kevin scoots up and kisses him on the mouth. “I love you.”

Connor smiles, looking straight into those beautiful, brown eyes. 

“I love you, too.”


End file.
